Saturday, March 11, 2017

The Pink Room, Chapter 19, Accepting Me, Part 3



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The Pink Room: Thoughts About Intentional Living  
Chapter 19/ Accepting Me.
Part 3 (Previous post contain the previous chapters.)
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There is a scripture, Rev. 2:17b: I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only the one who receives it.  Dan Allander, a psychologist and writer, asks: what might be the “name” God calls you—what do you reveal about God?  He had a tragic car accident, when asked what his name was at first he couldn’t remember the only thing he could remember was he was a teacher. He said that was what was written on his heart, his calling.

There is something about fully accepting a calling, looking doubt in the face and moving in faith toward what is written on your heart. Being disqualified because of your past, your failures, the things others have told you about what you are capable of—none of those are valid if God says it is what it is. He won’t force us but will make it difficult for us not to acknowledge and address what that calling is in His timing.

I’ve seen people sabotage themselves because, deep down, they don’t want what they have or because they don’t believe they deserve what they are called to. Either case is heartbreaking.

I recently lead, what our church calls, a Life Group—it is sort of like a small group Bible study. In it we talked about redeeming the low points in life, allowing God to move through them and use them for good, because God will not waste anything. The exercise was, chart the events in life along a timeline, the lowest moments, write a sentence about how God can use it in your future—then over the lowest moments write a scripture verse about God being with your or having a plan for you.

I asked the group to talk about their experience doing this. One student said, “Where was this sixteen years ago?” Another one said that she felt encouraged and clear about the future.

Their countenances were different, lighter. Weights were lifted and people were encouraged.

I watched a YouTube video where students were filmed as they were told they were appreciated. The students were asked to talk with a teacher who said they were the reason that they loved their job that semester. To be the reason someone loves what they are called to, what a huge compliment, and what an encouraging message to receive. The message: I love what I do, I’d do it for free; but YOU make it fun, you make it worthwhile. There is something about making the treasure, inside others, come to life.

The Grotto in Portland sits on top of a huge hill, for Wisconsinites it'd be a mountain. Inside one all glass building there is a replica of Michelangelo's Pieta. Of course, being a master work it is remarkable but it is so much more striking in person than in this photo--in some respects it is almost too perfect.

There was this angle, where the figures were both separate and linked, where you can feel the weight of Jesus’ lifeless body on Mary. This piece sits in a room that is nearly empty, save a few viewing chairs, and the view of the trees, which somehow becomes a part of the room. The place is mysterious, holy, beautiful and serene. It is a great place for reflection. It is incredibly quiet.

I am captivated by the people of the Christmas story, their honor and faith are outstanding--and totally mind boggling. I look at images from the Renaissance and Enlightenment and wonder how close the artist got to the real individual's look.

This particular image showed both beauty and pain. This helped me realize how often that is the case. And it is also like the Bible verse that says He will make "...beauty from ashes," a literal example is this classic piece of art that clearly shows anguish in a remarkably beautiful sculpture.

But it is like that with all of us—we are the creation (the art project) and we are beautiful as we struggle to do well with our lives; to honor God with all of our time, even the time that needs redeeming.
I have had some lows that needed redeeming. I am more compassionate, more accepting, more humble, more cooperative—the brokenness in those seasons has turned into fertile soil for the next season. And I am thankful.
 
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Imperfections, low points, things that need redeeming can point to beauty; they help make it obvious that the beautiful thing is beautiful because they are not. If we are willing to let God work in our imperfections, our shortcomings, as we pursue our individual callings, those redeemed things also become beautiful pointers to God.